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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24391351">Aftermath</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercySewerPyro/pseuds/MercySewerPyro'>MercySewerPyro</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Thousand Painted Teeth [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Force-Sensitive Clones (Star Wars), Gen, Mental Link, Plo is a dad, Post-Episode: s01e02 Rising Malevolence, Wolffe is already a traumatized boy, and may or may not fight Cody at some point</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 06:53:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,964</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24391351</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercySewerPyro/pseuds/MercySewerPyro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Malevolence took so much from them, a thousand and more sacrifices over and over.</p><p>It must never happen again. Not if Wolffe has anything to say about it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Plo Koon &amp; CC-3636 | Wolffe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Thousand Painted Teeth [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728298</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>151</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The 104th is dead. An entire battalion, reduced to a mere squad and a half, a yawning void in the link where there once was life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All this, for one secret.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had known from the very beginning what they were up against; from first contact, the link had sung with fear, a thousand brothers silenced in an instant. The survivors had passed on a desperate message, all they could give: </span>
  <em>
    <span>ion cannon, power gone, hunting us down.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Malevolence.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>vode</span>
  </em>
  <span> had known. And they had done nothing. Fear had stayed their hand; the arguments they’d made had all been the same. That they’d made sacrifices to keep their link safe before, and they would have to be made again, that to let slip to the Jedi anything would be to draw suspicion. To chance discovery. Even the </span>
  <em>
    <span>vod’alor,</span>
  </em>
  <span> even the Nulls, fell silent as the Jedi mirrored the fear in turn. As they wondered and debated what could be hunting their ships through the black.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wolffe had let it slide, at first. In the early days, it had seemed that they could beat this without too many, that quiet really was the best course of action. He’d been a </span>
  <em>
    <span>di’kut.</span>
  </em>
  <span> They’d all been.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How many fleets had they lost, in the end? Two? Four? Eight? How many siblings, how many companies, battalions, platoons- Until the link bled freely, and their Force-Sensitives no longer threw up at the toll. If it hadn’t been for Geonosis, for the hellhole that had felled so many of them even despite their every gift, he knew they would have been found out regardless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wolffe had lost everything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had only been thanks to Boost and an admittance of his abilities that this many of them had survived. The General had taken the revelation in stride, as he took everything in stride, and for that Wolffe was grateful. If it hadn’t been for them both, it could have only been the three of them left alive, three out of five hundred and seventy-six. Already, the death toll was crushing, a thing that would drown him if he thought too long about it. He couldn’t imagine it only being the three of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His entire battalion and so many more, sacrificed- And for what? The victory had come far too late for his siblings. They were reeling, they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> reeling, all two hundred thousand and more. But the Wolfpack had been martyred needlessly. A sacrifice on the altar. It was no way to live, and no way to treat their own.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Damn Cody, and damn every bit of fear that had kept them from acting, from coming up with </span>
  <em>
    <span>something.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Wolffe was done. No more sacrifices, not so many, not even for this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Never again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>vod’alor</span>
  </em>
  <span> would never condone this so easily. Even to save them all from it ever happening again, it would be something fought over, something debated with the sharp fierceness only a </span>
  <em>
    <span>vod</span>
  </em>
  <span> could display. There would be raised hackles- And wasted time. Their dead demanded a swift and sure answer. So, shields drawn tight as to keep his intentions hidden, his Wolfpack’s support behind him, Wolffe went to find the General.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Here and now, it was better to ask for Cody’s forgiveness than for his permission.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He found the General in one of the observation decks, meditating- But the slump to his shoulders told of the ache they shared, the weight of so many lost in one fell swoop. Plo Koon understood something even some other Jedi failed to grasp: the vode were a thousand painted teeth, but they were not just weapons- They were living, breathing people, and to lead them was to protect them. He put his life on the line for them, again and again. Participated in their rituals where he was allowed, and receded from them with grace when he was not. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>respected</span>
  </em>
  <span> them, when most natborns didn’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had promised to keep Boost’s secret safe and to train him in the same breath. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved</span>
  </em>
  <span> them. One day, when this horrible war came to a close, Wolffe would even be proud to call him </span>
  <em>
    <span>buir.</span>
  </em>
  <span> They had trusted him with everything else of their selves, as Plo trusted them deeply in return, and he knew deep in his heart that their General would not let him down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wolffe took a deep breath, and rapped armored knuckles against the doorframe. “General?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Commander.” His head may not have turned, but there was a weary sort of warmth in Plo Koon’s voice all the same. “Would you like to join me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Actually, sir, we need to talk. Alone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Plo turned then, quiet and concerned as Wolffe closed the door behind him. Not often were these ones shut, and they both knew what it signaled: what the Commander had to say was important indeed. He stood there, uncomfortable even at rest with his arms behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, even though Wolffe’s tension was so clear, his General’s voice never lost its warmth. “Is it something you need to tell me standing up?” It was a gentle offer, and one Wolffe was grateful to accept.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slowly, hesitance still in his steps, he moved to sit beside Plo Koon, crossing his legs like the Jedi. “...Sir, can you promise me that what I’m about to tell you never leaves this room?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes Wolffe. I can promise you that. Now, what burdens you?” A pause, and then just as gently, “Is this about Boost?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wolffe took another deep breath, taking the moment to measure his words. “...Sort of. Sir, do you remember the first time we received word that a fleet had been destroyed? Because of the Malevolence?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Yes. Yes I do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...What if, we’d known about it from that point? What if, we’d known it was an ion cannon- Known about it, and said nothing.” He can’t bear to meet Plo’s gaze. “Because we were afraid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, the silence drags on. Wolffe knows, logically, that the Jedi is merely considering his words. But it still makes him nervous. Finally, though, “...Then I would wonder what the Wolfpack was so afraid of, Commander.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The breath catches in his throat. But he can’t stop now. “Not just the Wolfpack, sir. The entire army. Every single clone. Afraid, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Enough- Enough to sacrifice our own just to keep</span>
  <em>
    <span> one secret-” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He snarls softly, biting his bottom lip so hard it’s a wonder it doesn’t bleed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he looks up at last, he expects to see disappointment in his General’s gaze. Instead, there’s a concerned sort of worry, and a hand reaches to rest on Wolffe’s shoulders. “Commander?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...It can’t happen again, General. Never again. Not that many dead. Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>my Wolfpack.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Plo is quiet, and Wolffe fears the worst. But, instead, he shifts himself closer, and- Even though Wolffe is not as lucky as Boost, even though the link is all he has, the Jedi is now bleeding out his own concern and worry into the Force. Letting Wolffe feel the lack of anger, the lack of disappointment. Knowing exactly how to assuage his Commander’s fear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well. It’s now or never. “I don’t know if I expect you to believe me. But we’ve trusted you with our lives, our individuality- We know we can trust you with this.” It’s hard to not lean into the hand on his shoulder. “We knew, because we felt our siblings die. Because we’re linked, up here,” He taps his temple with a trembling hand, “And they sent us everything they knew. Just so they wouldn’t die in vain.” There’s a small, bitter laugh. “And they died in vain anyway. Because the Commanders decided we would rather protect the link with our dead instead of look out for the living.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wolffe fears again, when the silence returns. But again, Plo Koon seems to only have been processing. “...The entire army is linked like this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir. It’s- Hidden, I don’t know why. We were afraid, when the Jedi first came, that we wouldn’t be able to hide it. It’s- It’s ours.” It was all they had. “And we wouldn’t let anyone else use it for their own gain. But nobody noticed. No Jedi ever felt it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Plo Koon nods slowly, and then asks so gently, more curiosity than anything else, “...Is there a way you could show it to me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not… Directly.” But Sinker had an idea about it, and it’s Sinker’s idea he’ll use. “But you can go into my mind, right sir? Maybe you can see it through that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...You would trust me with that, Commander?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve trusted you with </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> than that, General. What’s my mind in comparison?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The General’s hand on his shoulder squeezes gently. “If you’re sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wolffe’s sure. But in lieu of a verbal response, he shores up some of his defences- And opens a doorway fully to the Jedi. There is a surprised sound from the Kel Dor, but soon there’s the lightest touch, almost like Boost but such a shade different. He’s gentler, his mental presence softer as he sinks it against and into Wolffe. Not like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>vod-</span>
  </em>
  <span> This is different, not like a link-touch. But a link-touch has never felt invasive, and neither does this. So he tries to present the link to Plo Koon as much as he can.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And soon, Plo Koon is withdrawing, his entire demeanour thoughtful. When he speaks, it’s full of wonder. “...It’s beautiful, Commander. I couldn’t feel much, but- I understand.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...You’re not to tell anyone about this. Not even the other Commanders. Not even the other Jedi.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Plo Koon dips his head. “I won’t, Wolffe. This is your culture, and I will be careful with it. I understand why you would wish to protect it so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their culture. In a way, Wolffe supposed the Jedi wasn’t wrong; it bound and brought them together, was the basis of their way of life. Without it… Without it, he didn’t know what they’d be. Lost, maybe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Jedi chuckles a little, taking Wolffe by surprise. “But not the Commanders either?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, Wolffe meets his gaze. Now, relief seeping into his bones, Wolffe can give the slightest of smirks. “I can ask forgiveness for it later. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If</span>
  </em>
  <span> they find out.” Then, softer, “...I meant it, sir, when I said ‘never again’. If something like that happens again, if we need somebody to tell… I want to tell you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am flattered, Commander. I promise I will do my best to make sure we never experience such a tragedy again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stand together, Plo helping his Commander up, Wolffe opening the door once more. He pings his siblings, and their relief mirrors his own; there was hope that their Jedi would be in their corner, but hope and reality are two different beasts. They’re just glad it turned out for the best.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He must have seemed lost in thought, because Plo Koon clears his throat. He turns, eyebrow raised, and the General chuckles. “I was wondering if you could teach me a little more about you and your siblings, now? I understand if you would rather keep it to yourselves… But it is not often Jedi get to meet a culture like yours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wolffe manages a grin, one of those rare, genuine things that bubbles up from inside of him and that Boost insists can’t be real. “Of course, General. I would love to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so, side by side and with some of the weight off their shoulders, the General and the Commander head to the mess hall, chatting in quiet contentment. There were not many Jedi the </span>
  <em>
    <span>vode</span>
  </em>
  <span> would truly trust. But Plo Koon was one of them, and Wolffe decided, right then and there, that he would lay down his life for him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Taking this to specifically ask, if you've read the entirety of A Thousand Painted Teeth, what your current theories are! We're nine fics in more or less, even if one is unfinished, and it's a good point to ask I think. :D</p><p>Course, I might not tell you if your theory is right...</p><p>vod/e - sibling/s<br/>di'kut - idiot<br/>vod'alor - sibling-leader</p></blockquote></div></div>
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